


race you there

by dashingswan



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-31
Updated: 2016-01-31
Packaged: 2018-05-17 12:25:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5869405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dashingswan/pseuds/dashingswan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Captain Swan + “we’re both ‘team leaders’ at a summer camp for little people and you may be hot but goddammit my collection of twelve-year-olds are going to beat yours into the dust “ because I am trash for the competitiveness</p>
            </blockquote>





	race you there

> Captain Swan + “we’re both ‘team leaders’ at a summer camp for little people and you may be hot but goddammit my collection of twelve-year-olds are going to beat yours into the dust “ because I am trash for the competitiveness

Emma carefully adjusts the thin cord in her hands, bringing the end of it through the small hoop in hopes of succeeding this time. She tugs at both ends now, fingers slowly placing them in intended spot, brows furrowed and focus impeccable. Well, almost impeccable considering Violet just sneezed into her shoulder and caused the almost-necklace to land in her lap. To put more emphasis on her frustration, opposing team, the Pirates,  just started aggressively cheering and voicing their victory.

„Fu-“ she stops in time, becoming aware that she is surrounded by a bunch of kids she's suppoused to inspire to function well in group assignments and be kinder and accept that sometimes, you will lose. „F- fun. That was fun, right? We tried well, and we'll win next time Ducklings.“

She forces the words through her teeth, and her smile couldn't be more fake if she tried. _Nice save._

Hearing herself speak those words hurt, actually _hurt,_ because Emma Swan is not a damn quitter and she will fight like hell but she will wipe the grin of that tall dude's face. And not only is he grinning, he is also taunting her with that look that just screams _'WE WERE BETTER, SUCK IT!'_. Or something similar to that, anyway-

„Okay, we can get lunch right after we-.“ the crowed rushes away sometime between _get_ and _lunch,_ leaving her alone to clean the mess they left. Her joy ensues when the wide-grinning tall dude decides to walk pass her, his motif nothing but gloating. „Asshole.“ she mutters, not really caring if he heard or not.

Even the way he walks is cocky. His hips sway lightly, hand carelessly reaching to brush through the dark hair strands, and his teeth just _won't_ stop tugging on the bottom lip. The way he looks at her becomes even more taunting once two deep blue eyes sneak into her thoughts. Ghosting over at first before finding a perfect spot to etch themselves on.

 _Great_.

///

„But Ruby, you should have seen the way he was laughing.“ she continues, basically yelling at her friend who ran out of responses and is just laughing through the phone at this point. „I swear to God, he has something against me.“

Ruby snorts, and if she were any closer, Emma would definitely give her a well deserved smack on the shoulder „Or, or _-_ “ she starts „and this is just a wild guess, but _maybe_ , you're acting over competitive again?“

„What?“ Emma protests, stopping in a dramatically offended pose Ruby may not be able to see, but definitely imagines „When the hell did I act over competitive?“

She can hear Ruby's deep sigh, and her struggle of holding back laughter before she starts „Well, for example, that time you challenged Graham to a sing off in ninth grade because he claimed he could do No Diggity better then you ever could.“

Emma shrugs, kicking off her boots and sitting on the bed „Ok, I see your point bu-“

„- _or_ that time you ran 5k because August told you you couldn't do it.“ she goes on.

„He was being an ass about it.“ Emma interrupts.

„Can't argue with that, but Elsa wasn't being an ass when she talked about how well she can figure skate,“ she states „yet you still forced Granny to apply you to the school, _and_ dragged me in as well.“

„Hey, I was six.“ she stops for a moment, laughing at the memory. „And point made. Still, I'm taking him down.“

„I never thought you'd do anything less.“ she laughs „I need to get some rest. Wolves are going against Librarians tomorrow.“

„Oh, I see,“ she starts „you're gonna see the cute girl and you need your beauty sleep. By all means, leave your best friend here hanging. It's cool.“

„You _know_ I tried to apply in the same summer camp but it was full.“

„I'm kidding.“ Emma chuckles „I just wish you were here. I miss you.“

„I miss you too.“ she replies, voice soft and slightly hoarse „Get some rest, weirdo. Love you.“

„Love you too.“

She hangs up and tosses her phone on the bed, and then herself right after. If muscles could speak, hers would be yelling. It's not that she disliked interning at a summer camp, or the kids, but _holy crap_ , could they be exhausting.

(Well, not only kids.)

///

She always sits alone at breakfast, going through the activity plan while occasionally yelling at Roland to put the freaking stick down before he pokes his own eye out. That kid may be adorable, but he is restless and it's exhausting.

Since the loss in the arts and crafts contest four days ago, the Ducklings downright _crushed_ the Pirates in bike racing and maths. They did lose in a pop quiz today though, but it's still a tie so she's mostly ok with it. Even though the grin on his face that followed the victory was still a bit too wide to her liking.

His name is Killian, according to the talkative kids from his group. Jawline thick and the curve of his tempting lips static. It's ridiculous, but she could swear that there is an imprint of some sort on her shoulder, on the exact spot where his accidentally bumped into. It was brief and unintentional, and appearently both of them chose to ignore the a few seconds too long glance. But it still lasted long enough for the mesmerized look in his eyes to caress a secluded piece of her soul, engraving wonder and desire on it.

His voice remains vague; a distant, husky melody gratifying her ears. She's only heard him from afar, encouraging his group of kids and earning their unshakable silence and attention. Despite the competitiveness and frustration he wakes in her, there's also an  enchanting intrigue he radiates with.

Her routine changes once he decides to sit across from her at the table. It's an awkward silence that ensues, interlaced with stolen glances both of them keep taking and taking. She manages to put on some version of disinterested and casual on her face, fails miserably, yet continues pretending she succeeded.

„So...“ he starts

„So“

„I'm Killian. Killian Jones“ he beams with tenderness, and it's a complete contrast to his usual grins that make her blood boil. It's kind of sweet and maybe even sincere.

„Emma Swan.“ she replies, taking his hand, all pointless attempts of holding back a smile in return falling down the drain once his thumb brushes along her knuckles.

„I have to ask you, Emma; do I sense a bit of rivarly between the Ducklings and the Pirates?“ the polite smile is wiped clean by the sharp curve of his brow; a cocky smirk appears by the end of the sentence as well „Not that I mind really, just curios.“

Her tongue flicks out to wet her lips teasingly, and she turns to look directly at him. _Big mistake_. Up close, his eyes are even more blue. Up close, the scar on his cheek tends to drift her focus. Up close, his lips look even more tempting.

„Could be. Depends whether you consider it one or,“ she grins, teeth grazing her bottom lips „perhaps you'd prefer to keep it friendly.“ He doesn't reply for a moment, just stares at her, grinning right back.

„I wouldn't blame you either,“ she goes on „we _both_ know Ducklings can kick your asses to the curb, anyway.“

„Oh, is that so?“ he asks, amusement coloring his voice.

„Mhmm.“

„Well then, my dear Duckling, it's on.“ he says „Try your best.“

„Bring it on, Pirate.“

///

Why does his name fit so naturally on her lips? Why does a mere touch of his send a high wave of chills down her spine? Why do his eyes pull her into an abyss of fascination? Why do his parted lips look so sinful?

All those questions will have to wait for answers, because right now, the most important thing on her mind is encouraging Grace well enough to get her to kick the damn ball already. After realizing that _'you can do it'_ and _'please, just do it'_ aren't working, Emma yells something about pairing her up with Roland for the dance off if she doesn't shoot immideatly, and before being able to finish her sentence probably, the ball is already tangled in the net.

The smile on her face didn't shine as bright since she got her law school acceptance letter, but seeing Killian's jaw clench and eyes flicker in defeat does the trick. The buzzer signals end of game, and the kids cheer, hugging Grace first, and then Emma, nearly tackling her and she tends to hug back as many of them as it is possible. Once promised extra candy if they tidy up their beds, there's only a trail of dusty smoke their feet leave behind.

She decides to approach him, shuffling her feet with a quick pace, taunting grin immitating his. Emma wiggles her shoulders slightly, and it makes him swallow his pride and simply laugh along.

„I've got to say, I did not think you would manage to beat us after that mess of a training two days ago.“ Killian admits, and before she gets the chance to justify her team not having the slightest clue what a freekick was at the time, he adds „Well done, Duckling.“

„Well, thank you.“

„No need to thank me.“ he starts again, gaze unlocking from hers and drifting somewhere in the distance. „We're still going to wipe the floor with you in _Tug the rope_.“

„ _Oh_ really?“

„ _Really_.“ he states, stepping closer, a smirk forming on his face.

„I'd love to see you try, Pirate.“ she bites back, „See you tomorrow, then.“

„Tomorrow.“

///

He stands across from her, eyes searching every inch of her body, briefly lingering on the skin of her exposed legs before drifting back to her face. To her surprise, he doesn't sneer; much; he gives her a quick smile before the buzzer goes off and her palms suddenly start aching. She pulls the rope back even harder, and his feet slip, gravel beneath him bouncing.

They're both the first in line, close enough to hear every groan that slips the other and to witness the desperate struggle they both try their best to surpress. The kids behind her start to yell and gasp in pain preety quick. Emma starts thanking every god that Ruby convinced her into going to the gym before leaving for the summer camp, because otherwise, her calves and arms would be burning.

„Problems, darling?“ he asks, voice completely breathless

„Don't know what you're talking about.“

Hers isn't much better, despite how hard she tried.

He snatches the rope forward harshly, nearly causing her to lose balance. Emma yanks it back even harsher, and he stumbles, muttering numerous curses under his breath. She can't help but laugh, and he uses the moment as his leverage to yank the rope firmly and bringing it over the red line, along with Emma.

She trips over her own feet, palms landing on his chest as she tackles him to the ground. Both of their first instintics are to look around and be thankful that they didn't land on any of the kids. Both of their second insticts are to look at each other.

If touches before sent chills through her body, then you can bet that not having any space between them is driving her mad. But it's not just because his hand is casually resting on the small of her back. Or the fact that her fingers are resting against his cheek. Or their noses brushing tenderly. Or that his other hand lays tangled somewhere in the golden curls of her hair.

It's also the near touch that's making her go crazy. It's his hot breath dancing on her skin. It's the look in his eyes; some mix of surprise and bliss. It's the words that die on the surface of his lips and leave her wondering what could they have been. It's the grin that starts forming on the corners of his mouth, a perfect clash of arrogant and delight.  

Despite the restlessness it wakes in her, the wonder and the guily plesuare, it's a moment she doesn't want to let go of just yet. It doesn't look like he does either, but considering there is a pack of pre adolescentes watching and already making teasing remarks, the smart thing to do is to quickly push herself up. So she does the smart thing. Killian gets up right after, already prepared to drop an inappropriate comment when she stops him with her hand

„ _Uh-uh_.“ –may be enough to stop him from saying anything, but it doesn't stop him from biting his lip like _that_ , or the look he gives her; full of desire and  

„As you wish, Duckling.“ is all she hears before wallking away, smile reluctantly fixed on her face.

///

It takes a few weeks for her to get used to him.

To get used to him cracking jokes whenever he's around her.

To get used to him telling her stories after all the kids go to bed and they're the only ones sitting next to the campfire.

To get used to him looking at her like she's holding his life in her bare hands.

To get used to him sitting at her table, having each meal with her.

To get used to him being as competitive as she is. (Well ok, that one may be up for a debate.)

To get used to him waking the desire; the constant ache for him in each cell of her body that just won't leave her alone.

To get used to _them_.

But she does get used to it. All of it. And it frightens her. It frightens her that it feels so essential now, and so _so_ _good_.

He sneaks up behind her while she watches the kids play dodge ball, tickling her waist and it startles her, making her wail and swear at him instantly. But even when she smacks his shoulder, he's still giggling.

„Easy there,“ he says when she steps forward an fights back, the look in her eyes downright screaming that she will tickle him unconscious „I'm sorry! Please stop-“

She doesn't stop. At least until her hands find themselves in his. His grip firm yet gentle. She snatches them away, but not quite before she realizes how well they fit. His large and with calloused fingers contrasting hers, fairly smaller and slimmer.

„ _Never_ do that again.“

„I won't. Pirate's honor.“

Emma chuckles and then looks at him with a mocking expression to hide her amusement. She fails.

„Listen,“ he starts again „I was thinking for a change we don't compete in a game.“

„Giving up already?“ she teases.

„ _No_ ,“ he goes on „but because it's hot as balls and I'd rather get soaked then sweaty.“

„What game are you talking about?“

„Drip, drip, splash.“ he says, walking towards the group „What do you say? Ducklings and Pirates playing together?“  

She looks at him with hesitance at first, but it doesn't take her too long to nod in agreement. He soon gathers both groups in a large circle, and the first hassle already starts when it gets to picking who's 'it'. After full five minutes of listening to screeching voices, he gets up for the sake of his own nerves and ears and basically yells that he'll be the damn 'it'.

Emma's quite certain, no _convinced_ , he'll splash her with the bucket when he reaches her but he doesn't. Instead, he splashes Violet. The first time around anyway. The second time, he pours the water over her neck suddenly and starts running as fast as he can, and somehow sitting on her spot in time.  

The further the game goes, the more they become each other's main targets. Emma's splashed him four times, and if he tries to splash her for the sixth, she is going to murder him. Yet, he does it anway.

„Ok, that's it.“ she yells, basically jumping and sprinting towards him.

He runs far away from the circle and she grabs another bucket full of water, then proceeds to chase him across the entire meadow and around the lake. She loses all patience once he starts heading towards the woods, so she takes the shortcut and crosses his path, bucket at least half full at this point, but ready to be spilled into his face. The look on his face is a priceless view when he sees her standing in front of him. Well, something between priceless and ' _I hope he didn't just get a heart attack_ '. His hands are on his knees and when starts laughing between the pants, she pours cold water all over him, completely soaking his shirt and shorts.

Killian stands up, wiping the drops from his face and then he stares back at her. He hesitates at first, she notices it in his eyes, but his feet don't. He takes a step towards her, and another and another until she is in the reach of his hands. He puts one gently on her cheek, tugging the hair behind her ear carefully with his fingers. He places the other one near her lips, gently brushing them with his thumb.

Then he presses his lips against hers, gently- for the first two seconds. Once she kisses back, deepening it, he straight up starts to devour her. Her arms lock around his neck, and his drift to behind her waist, pulling her closer. His tongue challenges hers for a battle, a mighty one appearently, because it doesn't take too long for it to result in moans. Her kisses are hungry too, and she finds herself simply unable to get enough of his taste. He groans in response, pressing her back against the tree, moving his lips down the line of her jaw and then to her neck.

Her fingers reach for his hair when he licks at that one spot, and she tugs _– harshly_ , but he seems to like it because he does it again. And again, and again. He could probably kiss her forever and it would still not be enough.

They stop at some point though, her hand reluctantly on his chest, gesturing him to move and he does with a whine.

„We should get back to the camp.“ she says, her arms still holding him as close as it's humanly possible.

„Aye.“ he agrees, frowning „But, perhaps you'd care to come back once they're all asleep?“

The famous grin is back on his face. She responds with another kiss to his lips.

„I would.“

He carelessly slips his hand into hers. Just like she carelessly rests her head against his wet shoulder on their way back.

„Just so we're clear,“ she starts „Ducklings are still going to _ruin_ you.“

„I'd _love_ to see you try.“


End file.
